-Chapter 2: In Command-

1600 Hours

August 14th , 2552 (Military Calendar)/

Epsilon Eridani System, Planet Reach

Orbital MAC Station, Gauntlet

The newly assembled crew of the UNSC Spirit of Fire lined up along the walls of the atrium area on the MAC Station, Gauntlet. In a few moments, the crowd would be addressed by Admiral Hood and the reenlisted Captain Cutter. There were a variety of servicemen and women gathered in the large room, from scientists to Helljumpers to engineering specialists. The men and women there were the best the UNSC could muster in such a short time span for the mission they were about to receive. An officer called them to attention as the admiral approached the podium at the far end of the room, but so far, Cutter was no where to be found.

"At ease." Admiral Hood nodded to someone in the back and the lights dimmed. In the center of the room was an object that looked like a well, but with deep engravings and rotating sections. Where the opening of a well would be large, the opening to this device was rather small and had a faint white glow to it. Hood pressed a button on the podium and the diagram of the Milky Way galaxy popped into being and spread over most of the room, spilling light onto each individual, making them squint in the sudden, unexpected glare. Admiral Hood began his address.

"This, is our galaxy: the Milky Way. It is just one in a billion in our vast, ever-expanding universe. Only through light may we judge the width and extent of it, and even then, human calculations lead to error." He clicked the remote and the diagram began to zoom in over multiple star systems. "We have no idea how many systems or planets are in our galaxy. We have no way to tell without direct exploration and observation. We don't even know where the Covenant came from."

Sergeant Eric McNair, a veteran Helljumper, was standing close to the center of the hologram device, looking into the unknown reaches of the galaxy. The words of the admiral went in and out of his ears; it all sounded like scientific bullshit. But at the mention of the Covenant, McNair's interest was piqued and he began to listen with an open mind. He leaned to a fellow ODST and whispered something in his ear. His face was emotionless.

McNair expected this to be another scientific exploration trip where him and his ODSTs, were going to be used as body guards. That was FUBAR in his mind. A Helljumper playing babysitter? The admiral would go on some long tangent that basically meant, "We're screwed. Try and find a safe place to flee." After they found their "safe place", the brass at UNSC would hold off the Covenant long enough to make a massive move of civilians to the area. It would be interesting in the least.

"Now," Admiral Hood began to explain, "On July 18, 2552, one of the Spartan squads discovered this on Sigma Octanus IV." Being projected now was a piece of rock that glittered granite and jewel-encrusted spots. The rock, however was not the subject in question. "On this indigenous rock are numerous symbols and hieroglyphic-like drawings that suggests there was once life on this planet before us." He paused, searching for words, "Even before the Covenant."

McNair wasn't thinking about what he said; memories were flooding back into his mind from that day.

Sergeant McNair had been one of the few Marines to make it off the ground at the Battle of Sigma Octanus IV, and he remembered that day oh so clearly. The single Pelican that had arrived after Corporal Harland (back then, McNair was a private) had called for extraction had left him angry, but as he had watched the green giants, whom everyone called "Spartans", jumped out from the back of the dropship, he only felt awe. The ODST next to him nudged his side and made a nod towards the holo.

"We believe that the Covenant don't necessarily "make" their own technology. Our scientists have come to the conclusion that they take from parts of technology that they've discovered and adapt it to their liking. This means that there is, or was, a superior race of beings before even the Covenant that have left remnants of their technology behind.

"We believe that this long rim of outer territory planets-," at this point, the hologram zoomed in on a spot towards the outside of the Milky Way, revealing several unnamed systems, "-holds an abundance of this technology." A murmur of surprise swept through the crowd.

"This'll get interesting real fast," McNair said to his buddy.

"We also believe that these systems are where the Covenant extract the technology to design and equip their ships, vehicles, armor, weapons; you name it. We think this is where it's at." The crowd erupted into madness. Marines and scientists alike began to ask the same question: How long had the UNSC known this fact and how long had they kept it a secret? Soon, the whispers grew to raised voices and then to screams with every UNSC personnel all on the same topic.

"Attention!" Captain Cutter's voice rang above all the yells and screams of pissed off individuals, cutting off even the slightest murmur, calling them to a rigid stance of attention. Many faces were still contorted with rage, but no one spoke and no one moved as Cutter slowly approached the podium at the far end of the room. He stared at every serviceman and woman he passed with disgust at the way they were behaving.

"Admiral," Cutter nodded his head and shook his senior officer's hand.

Hood took Cutter's hand, gave it one firm shake, and returned the nod. "The mic's all your's."

Cutter stepped up to the the podium, clasping his hands behind his back and standing perfectly straight behind the stand. "Men and women, of the UNSC service vehicle CFV-88, Spirit of Fire, what did you sign up for!" It wasn't a question; it was a statement. Cutter knew every single one of the people in the Atrium had signed up for the same thing: their shot to kill some Covenant bastards. "I hope you all can get over yourselves, because this is going to be one hell of a mission and I expect no complaints from any of you. Is that understood?"

"Sir, yes, sir!" It was a roar of understanding from each individual in the room and made Cutter smile slightly.

"I am in command. Anything I say is law, anything I do is for the betterment of humanity. I won't lie; most of you won't come back from this expedition. But I think you all knew, from the moment you put a signature on the dotted line, you wouldn't be returning to your normal life." Cutter relaxed a little, "It's an honor, and a privilege, to lead such honorable people. Return to your quarters at once and be ready to go at zero-two-hundred hours tomorrow.

---

"Two please," Sergeant McNair told the bartender, "On my tab." The heavy-set, grease covered man brought over two beers and nodded to McNair. "Here's to humanity." Eric and his buddy clicked the bottles together before taking long swigs of the alcoholic beverages. "Say, Bain, you think the captain's an asshole?"

Sergeant Jack Bain rubbed his deep, dark brown hair, saying, "Cap'n Cutter?"

"Yeah," McNair answered, taking another drink. "What do you think of him?"

"Well, from what I've heard," Bain said to McNair, "When Cutter was captain of the Spirit the first time, at the Third Battle of Harvest, he was following Covenant forces that lead him to an unknown world. Supposedly, though, he, along with the original crew, survived for twenty years in and out of cryostorage."

"Really?" McNair sighed, "He's definitely out of his game now. I wonder why the UNSC brass would reenlist him after so long..."

"Well," Bain said, "We're all screwed anyway."

They ordered another round of drinks, both in deep thought of where humanity really stood in this one-sided war and what this long expedition would lead to.